


Nothing (not even the rain)

by sasshope



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Moving On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:26:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasshope/pseuds/sasshope
Summary: Hui can wait, no matter how long it takes





	Nothing (not even the rain)

**Author's Note:**

> I have actually wrote this for someone to whom I really wanted to give something nice but I decided to post it too so hope you all are going to enjoy it

( nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals  
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture  
compels me with the color of its countries  
rendering death and forever with each breathing.) 

There were two years since Kino left Hyojong

There were two years since the man who took his hand and showed him all the wonders in the   
world moved on and left him on the dirty ground with a bleeding heart void of emotions. He didn't   
cry for he was incapable of doing so. For so long ( for too long, actually) Kino was there to show   
him how each feeling should be lived at the maximum until it left you with a deep pain in your chest   
and with your body bruised. Everything with him was above the human levels of intensity: from   
riding the motorcycle back home to making love.   
Kino had this tendency of marking everything that belonged to him and, as it was clear for   
everybody , Hyojong belonged to him.

He became bored though, but it was expected : after taking and taking and taking everything that   
meant Hyojong without giving him anything in return he ended up leaving him completely void of   
everything.

Of course Hyojong didn't cry when Kino left him and   
moved on: he was too numb, he forgot how to   
do it. But still, he clang to his image, hoping one day he will come back to return him everything   
he took.

As expected, he didn't.

Kino left Hyojong's life just how he entered it: like a typhoon destroying everything that was in his   
way . Well, maybe not everything... because some things are so powerful in their quiet existence   
that not even the fury of the biggest tempest is able to move them from their place. 

Just how Kino was as unstable and as destructive as a typhoon Hwitaek was as stable as the rock   
that protects one from the unforgiving wind and storm.  
Hwitaek was always there giving everything and a little more but never asking for something in   
return so Hyojong often wondered how did he manage to still be capable of giving.

" It's because I am in love " he answered every time.  
In Hwitaek's one room apartment were dozens of pictures of Hyojong that Hwitaek himself painted.

" Why? " Hyojong asked one night.

"Because they are the only thing I have. This is as close as I can get to you."

Hyojong found that night that love didn't mean taking everything, doing everything the hard way   
because true love was what was pouring from every word that Hwitaek spoke, from his every   
glance from every flick of his brush on the canvas. 

Love didn't necessary have to be as loud as a   
hurricane. It could, as well, be as gentle and soft as a drizzle.

They were drinking coffee in Hwitaek's apartment when Hyojong suddenly said:

" Let's go out."

" You aren't ready. " came Hwitaek's whispered response.

" So what ?"

" I will wait."

" But what what if I will never be able to move on ?"

" Then I will die waiting. If it is for you, I wouldn't mind."

Hyojong cried that night . At first it was because it was painful for him to receive so much love   
without being able to return it. Afterwards, he cried because it was the first time in a long time   
when he was feeling something. He started kissing Hwitaek but his lack of response angered him (   
another feeling that came back to him). He started biting his neck and shoulders brutally and , just   
when his nose came in contact with a patch of wet , unmarked skin, did he realize that Hwitaek   
was actually crying. For a few seconds he was paralyzed, trapped between his desire to continue   
marking the other's skin and the part of his brain that told him he was hurting the only person that   
loved him. Hwitaek made the decision for him:

" You can continue. I ...don't mind."

The rest of the night Hyojong kept abusing various parts of his skin and Hwitaek kept crying. He   
didn't know when he fell asleep but when he woke up Hwitaek was already awake offering him   
coffee and food.

Two months after that night Hyojong decided to offer Hwitaek his body.He was naked on his bed   
kissing him softly and gently removing his clothes. Hwitaek cried again but allowed him to do as he   
pleased.

" I know you want me to give you my soul but I still haven't got it back. For now, all I have to offer you is my body." he said kissing the other's stomach.

" I don't want your soul."

Hyojong raised from his position to look Hwitaek in the eyes.

" I don't want your soul. I want you to be the only owner of your soul. And I want you to love me   
because this is how you feel, not because you feel grateful or pressured. You don't owe me   
anything and all the things I have done for you...I have done them out of my free will. I trust you   
with my body and I trust you with my soul. And if you will ever decide that I am the one, I want you   
to belong with me not to me. You are not a possession ."

" You know, maybe not as lovers, but for as long as I know you, I belonged with you ...and maybe   
I will belong with you until the end of time. Maybe love isn't about overwhelming emotions as I   
forever thought. Maybe love is about quiet whispers and gentle words...maybe love is about being   
there...and if I am right, I want to...and I am ready to experience it with my whole being."

Hwitaek smiled softly for the first time in a long time.

" Then I am yours to take."

(I do not know what it is about you that closes  
and opens; only something in me understands  
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses  
nobody,not even the rain ,has such small hands)


End file.
